E Tutti Dicono Che La Lana Non Brucia
Rampant wild fires are common in Sicily and are often the result of arson, set when intense scirocco winds travel from Africa and rip across the island. Local rumors arise about the origins of these fires each year, including the story that sheep and cats are set on fire and released to run through the flammable dried brush to spread the flames. This story is attested to by many, with evidence found to support this story, and is alluded to in one of the interior scenes of my earlier work “Fata Morgana/Mondo Nuovo” in which a figure bears a torch and a flaming lamb runs through the brush of a mediterranean landscape. Yet, wool is known as a naturally fire-resistant material.
“E tutti dicono che la lana non brucia” translates to “and everyone says wool doesn’t burn”, contradicting the widely-accepted story. This dismissive statement alludes to cultural tendencies of omertà and the negation of truthful accounts based on lived experiences, not solely around the discussion of fires and vandalism, but applying to a wider discourse that includes all forms of intimidation, negation, and silence around domestic violence, corruption and criminality.
Whether due to poor land management and fire prevention, territorial disputes over land rights, personal feuds and vendetta, or natural or accidental causes, historic olive trees dating 500-1000 years are lost to flames or vandalism each season. Here, the piece is installed at the convent that nearly burned as we watched from the safety of the belvedere, during one such fire in 2016, sending the nuns fleeing and residents coming to their aid, leaving a charred ghostly landcape in its wake.
Serena Perrone, “E tutti dicono che la lana non brucia”, raw wool embedded with thorns and brambles crocheted into plastic netting used to harvest olives, 3.5 meters squared, 2024, installation view: Piano del Convento, Tusa, Sicily.